August 1 



ACCORDING to the official calendar it is still winter, but 

 out in the bush all the world knows it is spring. Although 

 the week's heavy rain has drenched and spoiled the laden 

 branches of the cultivated wattles the golden-hued Coota- 

 mundra and the Queensland their paler sisters in the 

 neighbouring bush have survived the downpour, and are 

 shedding their nutty sweetness through a damp world, and 

 the air is fragrant with early spring scents. 



This afternoon there was actually a break in the grey sky, 

 and a wind that seemed as if it might blow the rain away. The 

 house grows unsupportable after a whole seven days of rain, 

 and I felt I must go out into the freshness and green. So with 

 old hat, short skirt, and strong high boots I started off along 

 the muddy road to see what the week's rain had brought forth. 

 On the upper part of the ridge the soil is shale, and here grow 

 tall blue gums and iron barks, with grassy spreads beneath 

 them. In the autumn this grass is a great hunting ground for 

 mushrooms, but now as I trudged across the soppy sods there 

 was nothing but green on every side. All green it was. but 

 not all grass ; for at the edge of the little creek, which was 

 rushing along in muddy haste, I found a group of green orchids 

 those quaint delicate things with much-curved petals that 

 look so like a strange bird's head. There were two sorts, one 



